Three Hours
by BeccaRamsey
Summary: As Nancy struggles with the adjustment to freshman life on the East Coast, she finds that she may not be so far from home, after all. Implied N/F.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Three Hours

**Disclaimer:** Characters are not mine. Used for entertainment only.

**Notes:** I started writing this as a means to an end: A way to explore some events I referenced in an ND/HB mystery I've been working on, taking place after Frank and Nancy graduate university. Originally posted elsewhere in July 2009, I decided to start archiving some of my work over here. Posted _sans _beta. Any errors you see now are my own fault!

Dedicated to Ely.

* * *

Three hours. In just a little over three hours, the commuter train would pull into the station in Bayport and for the first time in a year, Nancy Drew would be paying a visit to Frank and Joe Hardy.

The invitation had come as something of a surprise, really. The first week of classes at Marymount University, a small Catholic school outside of Washington, DC, had been brutal. Enrolled as a criminal justice major, with emphasis on forensics, Nancy plunged into her schedule with a positive outlook. She had, after all, picked up a few things through all those investigations over the years. Her first criminal sociology class, however, turned out to be very different, stretching her well beyond her comfort zone….so much so that she was reconsidering her major – and college in general.

A picture on her desk – she and the Hardys with her close friend, George Fayne aboard a cruise liner – drew her back to the times where she felt confident. She longed to feel that way again…or at least be reassured she was on the right path.

She dialed the Hardys' number without even realizing it.

"Hello?"

Nancy recognized the pleasant voice immediately. It belonged to the boys' mother, Laura Hardy. A petite woman, crowned with blonde hair and blue eyes, she had the patience of a saint – a trait that was definitely needed when dealing with Frank, Joe, and their father, Fenton. Especially as all three had a penchant for trouble much as Nancy, herself, did. "Laura? It's Nancy Drew."

"Nancy!" the older woman said. "Oh, how are you? Settling in okay?"

"Okay, I suppose. Just…very different from what I expected." Nancy tried to keep her tone upbeat. "How are things there?"

"Well, Joe has what Frank calls 'senioritis' - meaning that he doesn't want to do anything before graduation. Fenton, he left early this morning for a conference in Chicago." The amusement in her voice made Nancy smile. "And poor Frank, he's been miserable all week. It seems you and he are having similar problems. "

"Maybe we should start a support group."

To this, Laura Hardy chuckled. "You might be on to something there."

There was a pause in the conversation, and Nancy could almost _hear _the gears turning in Laura's mind. "Speaking of," the elder woman continued, "do you have classes on Columbus Day?"

Nancy glanced at her calendar. "I do on Monday evening, but the Friday before is all clear. University policy is to try and schedule classes for Monday through Thursday."

"And you're not going home?"

"Not this time. Dad and Ned are flying here for Thanksgiving, then I'm flying home for Christmas." Nancy furrowed her brow. "What'd you have in mind?"

"I was just thinking it's been a while since we've seen you – the boys, too. Why don't you check into flying out on Thursday evening, and come spend the long weekend with us? You can commiserate with Frank, and you both can knock Joe down a few notches."

"Two against one? That hardly seems fair to Joe!" The strawberry blonde detective laughed. "It might be interesting, though. With no mystery to solve, I'm not sure we'd know what to do with ourselves."

"You'd have a good time, that's what you'd do. What do you say?"

Nancy hesitated only a split second. "I'll be there."

"Great!" Laura exclaimed. "The boys are over at Chet's right now, but I'll fill them in as soon as they get back. Just be sure to call me with your arrival information."

"I'll book my ticket tomorrow. And Laura?"

"Yes, dear?"

A weary smile twitched across Nancy's lips and she swallowed back the knot that rose in her throat. "Thanks."

"It's not a problem, Nancy," Mrs. Hardy replied. "You're one of my kids, too."

That had been a little over a month ago. The following weeks passed quickly, Nancy charging forward with renewed vigor – especially as she grew more accustomed to her schedule and professors. Now she had only three more hours to wait until she was back on familiar ground with people who knew and understood her. There was a comfort level there she'd been missing for weeks, one she hadn't felt since leaving River Heights. She smiled. In a strange, comforting way, she was going home for the long weekend.

* * *

_* For those unaware, Columbus Day falls around the second weekend in October, about the same time as Thanksgiving in Canada. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Three Hours

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter 1.

* * *

Laura Hardy was waiting outside the station when Nancy arrived. She greeted Nancy warmly, wrapping her in a hug. "Good to see you, young lady," she said.

Nancy returned the embrace. "Good to see you, too. It's really been too long!"

Drawing back, Laura gave her a once-over. "You look good – a little tired, but good. By the time you go back on Monday morning, we'll have you back to your normal self." She gave Nan's shoulders a squeeze. "Now, any bags?"

Nancy gestured to her backpack and the small, wheeled carry-on at her side. "This is it. Thankfully, I don't pack like Bess."

Both women laughed, then loaded into the sedan Laura drove. They chatted amiably as Mrs. Hardy maneuvered the car through the older, charismatic neighborhoods of Bayport. They weren't, Nancy thought, all that different from those surrounding her school in Arlington – streets lined with towering oaks, shading colonial-style brick houses as old as the trees themselves.

The Hardy home was no exception. Built around the turn of the century, it was solidly constructed of stone and mortar, surrounded by ancient trees and an English garden. Frank and Joe's father, Fenton, liked to brag that it had seen three generations of Hardy males into adulthood: his father, himself, and now the two brothers. It was perhaps for this reason that, for all the cold stone exterior, it seemed warm and welcoming to Nancy.

Setting the parking brake, Laura cleared her throat. "You haven't talked to the boys at all this month, have you?"

Nancy shook her head. "Frank and I haven't even exchanged e-mails this month – we've both been busy, I suppose."

"Well, then, I have a confession to make." Nancy furrowed her brows as she regarded Laura. What could Laura Hardy possibly have to confess to her? "I, ah, never told the boys you were coming. I decided early on that your visit would be a great surprise for them both, so…"

"So they don't know I'm here."

"Not yet."

A wry grin curled across Nancy's lips. "This is about to get interesting."

Laura grinned as well. There was a spring in her step as she led the way into the house. Nancy thought she understood – living in a house full of detectives, it was rare to spring a surprise. Something told Nancy that Laura was about to pull it off.

"That you, Laura?"

The tall, solid form of Fenton Hardy rounded the corner from his study. Like his eldest son, he was handsome and capped with dark hair, now liberally streaked with silver. The black oxford shirt he wore accented his features and offered a stark contrast to the fair-haired Laura. His dark eyes sparkled as they lit upon his wife. "I see you picked up a little something extra while you were in town today."

"I did indeed," Laura replied. Beaming, she began removing her cardigan and hung it in the coat closet. "There I was, near the station, and I found this familiar little redhead standing there. I just couldn't leave her…"

Fenton laughed. "No, I imagine you couldn't." He wrapped an arm around Nancy's shoulders, squeezing them slightly in a hug. "And how are you, Nancy? Doing okay?"

"Better now," Nancy replied with a smile. "Though I definitely want to talk to you later about whether or not all this torture I'm putting myself through is worth it."

"It's worth it. But you're right: it can wait till later. We'll also," he noted, leveling a gaze at Laura, "talk about how my dear wife managed to pull this off. For now… I suspect there are two gentlemen upstairs who would probably like to know you're here."

"I think I'd kinda like to see them, myself."

Crossing to the staircase, Fenton leaned against the railing, chin tilted upward. "Frank! Joe!" he called. "Come down and give your mother a hand!"

Joe Hardy was the first to emerge from his room. Tall and muscular, he had inherited his mother's blonde hair and blue eyes. In the year apart, he had allowed his blond hair to grow. It now framed his face in a fuzzy manner unfamiliar to Nancy. The blue eyes, glinting with mischief, remained the same, however. He was definitely his mother's son.

"Nan!" he exclaimed. He leapt easily down the last few stairs and landed just before Nancy. She was engulfed in a bone-crushing hug before she could blink. When he released her, he shook his head. "Not to be rude, but what are you doing here? No one told us you were coming!"

"You can blame your mother for that one," Nancy answered. "We've been plotting this little trip for a month."

Joe looked to his mother. "Wow. Score one for the home team! That was pretty good, Mom."

"Married to a cop and mother to two detectives, I think I can learn to be sneaky, too." Reaching out, Laura pinched at Joe's side. He jerked away and yelped. "And don't you forget it."

Pouting, Joe rubbed his side. "All right, all right. Mom's the sneaky one."

It was then that a second door opened at the top of the stairs. Frank Hardy, eldest son to Fenton and Laura, appeared at the landing. "What's all the –" He stopped, seeing Nancy at the foot of the stairs. His eyes widened, and he bounded down the staircase. Without a word, he drew her to him, embrace strong and warm.

Nancy felt a jolt rush through her and her eyes closed as she enjoyed the warmth of his arms around her. A long moment passed before she found her voice. When she did, it was barely above a whisper. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you, Hardy," she managed.

"I've got a pretty good idea, Drew." His breath stirred her hair, and she could almost feel his lips move against her ear. "Maybe you shouldn't stay away so long." He released her slowly – reluctantly – as they both realized any longer might be inappropriate. Still, an uneasy silence settled over the room, despite their best efforts.

It was Laura who broke the silence that settled over the room. "Joe, why don't you show Nancy to the guest room? Frank, you come give me a hand getting the groceries out of the car." She gave a smile, moving to squeeze her eldest son on the shoulder, before shuffling him and Fenton off toward the garage.

Joe jerked his head in the general direction of the staircase. "C'mon, Nan. It's not like the guest rooms have moved. I think Mom may have repainted since you were here, though…"

Forcing a smile, Nancy followed Joe up the stairs as he rattled on about the various cosmetic changes Laura Hardy had insisted on making in the past year. She didn't hardly hear a word, her attention focused on the awkward moment with Frank. If that was an example of times to come, she thought, she was afraid her trip might not be so restful, after all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Three Hours

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter 1.

* * *

The kitchen was quiet as Fenton Hardy entered. Glancing to his left, he spotted his wife, hovering near the sink, the counter before her littered with vegetable scraps – bell pepper cores, tomato greenery, and onion peels. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at him before resuming her chopping. "What are the kids up to?" she asked, an even staccato against the cutting board underlying her words.

"Oh, they're in the den, watching a movie. I think the plan is to head out after dinner and check out the sequel," he replied. He reached for the coffee pot, scraping the carafe over the hot plate as he did so. "Joe wanted to go to Mr. Pizza...until I informed him that you were making spaghetti."

"I assume he changed his mind, then?"

Coffee poured, Fenton replaced the carafe and settled in to a seat at the breakfast nook. "Immediately... though I don't think we should plan on cooking for them tomorrow. There was some talk of heading over to the mall and possibly meeting up with Callie and Chet for dinner. "

"Probably just as well. Nancy needs the break." Laura shook her head. "You should have heard her when she first called, Fenton. She was wound as tightly as Frank has been. I think a little dose of their friends is exactly what they need."

"Hmm." Her husband was inclined to agree. Nancy and his boys had been friends for almost as long as any of them could remember. He and Nancy's father, renowned defense attorney Carson Drew, had crossed paths many times in the course of their business, becoming friends in the process; it seemed only natural that their children should do so as well. Unlike their fathers, however, the three teens had also developed a professional partnership over the years. Together, they had tackled some baffling and high-profile cases. The dangerous nature of the work often worried he and Laura, but he knew he couldn't ask the boys to stop, any more than Carson could ask Nancy: It was part of who they were.

Of his sons, Joe was the flightier of the two. He had smarts – and common sense – but was sometimes too busy looking for the next punchline. He excelled at team sports like football and baseball while maintaining the discipline necessary for a black belt in jiu jitsu. Joe was also, Fenton had to admit, the flirt: He had very rarely met a pretty girl he didn't like.

Frank was the quiet one – logical, reasoned, buttoned-up. While he, too, did well at baseball, martial arts caught his attention at an early age. There was individual achievement there, as well as a demanding baseline for measurement. Fenton suspected this appealed to the perfectionist tendencies he unwittingly passed down to his eldest son.

Nancy, he decided, was harder to read. Fair-haired and lithe with a fairly quick wit, she reminded him – at first meeting – of Joe. But speaking with her, and having observed her while involved in a case, he realized she was as thoughtful as Frank. It certainly explained her drive now as she plunged head-first into a criminal justice degree. It also explained why she was equally as stressed as his eldest son.

Pursing his lips, Fenton mused over Nancy's arrival earlier that day. Both Frank and Joe offered hugs, welcoming her warmly, but the manner had been entirely different: Joe, leaping down the stairs with gusto and crushing the girl; then Frank, with his quiet enthusiasm and a touch of awkwardness. It was the touch of awkwardness that piqued his interest. It was, he thought, very unlike Frank.

"All right, Mister Detective," Laura said, her voice breaking the contemplation, "I can _see_ the wheels turning. What's on your mind?"

"Frank." He traced his fingers along the curve of his coffee cup. "That greeting with Nancy...something felt a little, well, _odd_."

"You noticed it, too, hm?" Mrs. Hardy paused, closing the lid on her slow cooker, then drying her hands on a dishtowel. A wry smile curved her lips. "I can remember a time when you acted like that...around me."

"But he's dating Callie, Laura. Has been for years."

"That doesn't mean he's not interested, Fenton." She crossed and took a seat opposite him at the small table. "And he's certainly not blind. Given everything we've seen and heard about her, I'm not surprised there's some small amount of attraction between the two."

"Maybe we should chaperone—"

"We will do _nothing_ of the sort." Laura silenced her husband with a glare. "I like Callie and I think she'd make an excellent addition to the family. But I rather like Nancy, too. She's a sweet girl and our son isn't an idiot." She shook her head, placing her hand over his. "No; one way or another, I'm sure Frank will figure this one out on his own."

Sighing, Fenton Hardy brought his wife's hand to his lips, kissing it quickly. "That's the hardest part of growing up, isn't it?"


End file.
